


noose

by iiredgm



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Angst, Depression, Heavy Angst, One Shot, Self-Harm, Suicide, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26477545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiredgm/pseuds/iiredgm
Summary: Papyrus comes home after a long day at work.There was nothing that could have prepared him for what he saw.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	noose

It was a cold night. The artificial light of the Underground provided no warmth whatsoever and the added snow of Snowdin that continued falling, sometimes for days on end, did nothing to help.

Still, the cold wasn't what was senting shivers down Papyrus' spine.

Instead, his usually calculated and steady gaze was now settled on a noose. A simple noose, made out of rope. It seemed sturdy enough, what with hanging from the ceiling and carrying the weight of Sans' lifeless, unmoving body for the last few seconds of his miserable life before everything turned even colder somehow and dark and scary before Sans' mind was finally put at ease and bliss overcame his tired soul all the while his skeletal body turned into nothing but a pile of dust.

It was certainly a sight to behold.

Not that Papyrus had never seen a monster dust before. Of course he had, seemingly every monster in their little hell had seen it at least once. But still, being in the front row as Sans died by the hands of nothing more but a simple noose, it was an interesting turn of events. Not quite what you'd expect on a Tuesday night after returning home from a long day at work. Most people would expect dinner, a lovely hug maybe from a loved one, their favourite television show. But no, obviously Papyrus did not belong in the majority. 

He never had, not since he had been very little, and there were tons of reasons about that. For one, he was a skeleton. Skeletons were extinct, the only two remaining in the whole Underground him and his brother. Well, now it was just him, which also eliminated any hopes he might have ever had of creating offsprings. Oh well. 

For two, he was loud. And obnoxious. And stubborn. All great qualities for someone in a position of power, but less so for a seven year old who barely had a grasp on his magic and challenged literally every monster he came by despite always ending up beaten up and his ass was rescued by Sans. It was rare to come by such a loud monster in stripes, the kids usually hidden away or already taught the harsh reality that they either stayed silent or died. Sans just couldn't keep up with the little brat. 

In general however, Papyrus had always stood out. From appearance to personality, it all silently screamed for attention. He was an interesting and engaging monster damn it, and people needed to realise that and worship him already! 

He doubted he wanted attention about this, though, but he knew it would eventually be inevitable. Undyne would want answers on where her sentry was, Grillby would question why his regural for years now didn't swing by, the Lady at the Door would surely be even lonelier now. Perhaps she'd put an end to it too. It wasn't that much awful of an idea. 

Papyrus was.. well, he just was. He wasn't sure what to think, feel or do. The world seemed completely empty and suddenly every single sound, sight, touch, scent and thing seemed to hit him all at once, his body jumping into overdrive. Everything was too much, just too much, and he had to go away, get away from every single stimuli.

He slammed the door closed in the way he used to do after a bad fight with his brother, taking backward steps until his spine hit the railing of their porch. Gloved hands desperately grasped the railing, his breathing became too much of a burden all of a sudden and his uneasy body remained tense all the while his unsteady, red eyelights stared at the big, wooden door that used to belong to Sans. Now it was nobody's. Dust couldn't own things.

Tears rolled down his sharpened cheekbones, falling onto the carpeted floor with a tiny splash the normal ear could only pick up in absolute silence. There was no way Papyrus would ever be able to listen to it now, considering the defeaning ringing that made his skull buzz and his thoughts crumble and all of a sudden the lower half of his body gave in to the shaking he was forced under, making him fall onto the carpet with a thud that was almost loud enough for him to hear despite the ringing, but not quite.

He felt the irresistible urge to hide from the world, hide his face, his emotions, his thoughts. The best he could manage was to curl into some sort of lanky ball of bones that shook with each tearjerking yet quiet sob and before his hazy mind managed to catch up with his actions, he found himself covering his face and crying out his brother's name over and over again, as if magically he would appear out of nowhere to comfort him.

No, Sans would never wrap his hands around him, the disgusting yet comforting scent of mustard, alcohol and sweat would never hit Papyrus' nose ever again as his older brother tried to make him feel safe and calm him down as best he could. It was heartbreaking to think that Sans didn't have anyone but himself to depend on like that. The short skeleton never showed any negative emotion around his brother, much less cry openly to him like that. The few times he did, Papyrus didn't know what to do, so he just stood and watched like the fucking idiot he is.

Even if he was a better brother, would it have changed anything? If he had come home a few minutes earlier, would he have been able to prevent it? Maybe.. Then again, maybe not.

No one could tell and no one could change the outcome. Not now. Not anymore.

Now Papyrus was alone.

It took a good thirty minutes for Papyrus to stop sobbing, his loud pleading dying down into silent tears.

The house was big and empty. Cold and grey. Too big for a single skeleton, too cold for his liking. Too empty for one monster, too grey for someone with a usually positive attitude.

"Fuck."

He was against cursing, as it showed a lack of self control and was mostly only used by mere thugs on the streets-

"FUCK!"

There was a loud snap as the part of the railing Papyrus had been leaning against broke in half, the monster in question having stood up, his puffy eye sockets now filled with rage and hate. Blinded by it. 

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING IDIOT- I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Whether Papyrus was saying that to Sans or himself was up to anyone's guess.

Another snap of wood. This time, of the door that once belonged to someone but now only hid dust and hurt behind it. After another few kicks, the inside of the room was clearly visible by the huge crack that now decorated the door. With another loud curse, Papyrus kicked it open and stomped inside.

Before he knew it, he had trashed every single thing in the room but what was sitting in the middle of it. He tore the dresser open and ripped every single piece of clothing, either clawing at it or straight out biting into it, before pushing the dresser itself onto the ground and breaking it down into bits of woods. He moved onto the closet, doing the same thing with it, but he also punched a worn-down cardboard box that had been shoved deep inside the closet, behind the jackets and shirts, obviously hidden from the eye. He didn't bother opening it before destroying it, just like with the rest of the room. 

He tore open the mattress, ripped the blanket, clawed the walls, smashed the cracked mirror, threw whatever he found sturdy enough out of the window, smashing it into little glass pieces as well until finally he broke down once more, his back leaning against one of the walls he had destroyed. Only this time he wasn't crying. He just was.

Hours seemed to pass before his gaze finally averted from the dirty floor to the scene standing in the middle of the room, the only place he hadn't touched at all.

It was a plain scene. A pile of dust, a knocked-over stool and the noose. Quite the sturdy noose indeed.

The world seemed like a goddamn void. Empty of what little meaning it used to have. Sans was everything to Papyrus and now that he was gone, what was he supposed to do? He was lost and for the first time in his life he had no guidance, no support. Was he supposed to go to bed, as if nothing ever happened, and head to work tomorrow? Was he supposed to clean this mess up, gather the ashes and carefully place them somewhere? Or was he supposed to give up right then and there, use the noose the same way his brother did?

He simply did not know.

So he didn't do anything. He sat there, his face frozen in a neutral expression, his eyelights empty of tears and his SOUL empty of emotions. He had felt enough. He didn't want to feel anymore. As, he imagined, neither did his brother.

Sans was depressed. He had been depressed for quite a long while now. His room was always a mess, he barely ever took a shower, didn't want to leave the house for anything other than to go get drunk, probably couldn't even remember the last time he ate. It was sad, pathetic almost, to watch Sans spiral more and more into that bottomless pit of doom which he himself kept digging deeper and deeper. There was no escape.

But what if there was? What if, instead of yelling at him that one time for not cleaning his room, he had helped him clean it. What if, instead of silently listening from his room, Papyrus walked over on those nights when sleep was not an option for Sans and gave him a hug. What if, instead of beating each other to a pulp when Sans came home drunk, they got to talk it out and he could've helped him sober up. What if.. he could place a ladder in that pit called depression, help Sans climb out?

Well.. not anymore.

Even so, it was nice imagining the what-ifs. Happy times, from different timelines, where Papyrus was a better brother or he had gotten the chance to stop this by not working overtime. It brought a small smirk to his face, tugging the edges of his fangs. It was better to deny his feelings and imagine what could have been. Much easier, too.

And maybe, just maybe, if he stayed in his fantasy world for a tad longer, then when he came to, the stool might not be there. The dust might be missing, even. 

And he sure as hell hoped that cursed noose would disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, not some of my best work. I had this in my WIPs for quite a long time and wanted to finally finish it.
> 
> It's a vent fic if anything. I just craved some angst :(
> 
> Tell me if I missed any tags.


End file.
